Her voice quivers. “I feel so bad.”
“Well, there’s no rule that says we can’t play,” Kendall says, but her heart sinks. “Just common sense.
Eight was already too tight. Six. .” She trails off. She was counting on soccer to bring her out of her misery. If she can’t dance or act, playing soccer is her savior. It’s the only other thing that can occupy her mind enough to stop the whirling in her brain. “Maybe there’s a freshman we can coerce, just to get our numbers,” she says, but she already knows that Coach has begged every eligible kid in school just to get the eight they have — or had, as of a week ago.
“You know there’s not,” Marlena says, miserable. “Coach is tapped out.”
They sit together in silence, mourning for different reasons.
After a minute Marlena says, “How are Nico’s parents?”
“In front of me they seem fine. Like they’re really trying to be upbeat for my sake. My mom says they’re having a terrible time, though. He’s their youngest kid and the only one left here. Everybody else moved away.”
“That’s so sad,” Marlena says.
Neither of them really knows what to say.
Hector interrupts the silence. “Maybe you can tell us something about Nico,” he says. “Stories always help. Tell Marlena about when you were younger.”
Kendall sighs, but humors the older man. “Okay. . ” She thinks for a minute. “Well, so we’ve been neighbors since I was born. Nico is two months older than me. We grew up together, rode bikes or walked to each other’s house every day. Both of us have farms, and our houses are set really far back from the road, like yours here. Riding my bike to Nico’s felt like this really long journey, so I always had to pack a lunch, right?” She smiles a little at the memory. “And then I always felt bad so I packed a lunch for
Nico, too, and then I’d ride down the driveway on my bike and stop at the road, looking both ways like fifty times, even though there’s hardly any traffic down our road, and I’d get up the nerve and fly across the street and make my way to Nico’s, maybe stop and try to catch a grasshopper or whatever. And by the time I got all the way up to his house, I’d be all ready to have my lunch because it felt like a lot of work, but
Nico always made me wait. He’d come out and we’d go ride around the tractor trails all through his property, all along the perimeter of their land. Their property backs up to a neighbor who doesn’t live there anymore — an old man who died a few years ago, Mr. Prins. Remember him, Hector?”
“Oh, yes. He was a cranky old deaf man. Didn’t have a kind word for anybody at the end. I knew him since I was a teenager,” Hector says. “He wasn’t always so mean, but sometimes things happen that change a person.” His eyes cloud.
“Yes, well, I was scared to death of him. But Nico was totally fascinated. He couldn’t stay away. He tormented that man and dragged me into it with him. Mr. Prins would be hoeing his garden and we’d stand right behind the property line, as if it somehow protected us, and scream at the top of our lungs, trying to get him to look at us, ready to run like heck if he ever looked up. But he never did.”
“I thought he was deaf,” Marlena says.
“He was,” Kendall says. “Nico figured he was faking it.”
“When did you eat your lunch?”
Kendall smiles. “There’s a big oak tree in the back corner of their farm. His older sister and brothers built a tree house in it and left it once they grew up. We’d go up there and eat lunch and play all day. He didn’t mind playing house with me, or acting in all the dumb little plays I always wrote. It was like we were meant to be together forever.”
Marlena looks like she’s about to cry again.
“I’m so sorry,” she says.
Kendall takes a deep breath, lets it out, and smiles shakily. She leans forward in her chair, puts her chin in her hands. “What am I going to do without him? He’s my best friend. It’s like half of my soul was ripped out.”
Hector quietly eases out of his chair and leaves the girls to talk.
Almost as if Marlena turned a switch, Kendall finds herself spilling everything — her fears, her sadness.
How upsetting it was when people insinuated that Nico had something to do with Tiffany’s disappearance.
She even tells Marlena about her own secret problem. Her obsessive-compulsive disorder, and how this stress is making it harder than ever for her brain to settle down. How she’s hoping so much for soccer to help her cope, but now there’s that worry too. How this buddy system thing is going to ruin everything. She can’t even go for a run when she wants to. And how scared she is, wondering who’s next to disappear.
It’s after nine when Mrs. Fletcher returns for Kendall. She comes in for a minute, carrying a plastic container of something, and sets it on the counter. Says a quick sympathetic hello to Marlena and makes small talk with Marlena’s parents in the kitchen. Kendall, feeling a little vulnerable, gives Marlena a gentle hug good-bye and goes outside, where Hector stands, leaning against the railing of the big wraparound porch, watching Jacian.
“Thanks, Hector,” she says, “for making me talk about Nico. That really made me feel better.”
Hector nods and smiles. “It always hurts, but it helps, too,” he says. “I’m glad you’re not so stubborn, like some.”
Kendall watches Jacian. He’s moving more slowly now. She can only imagine how exhausted he must be. When he slips on dewy grass, he flops to the ground and lies there on his back, chest heaving. “I guess maybe we all have different ways of working things out,” she says. “Sometimes they even make sense.”
Hector squeezes her hand. “Thank you for coming. Will we see you again tomorrow, then? Marlena won’t be in school for a couple days. Not until she can get around on one crutch, or until her shoulder is well enough to handle a second one.”
Kendall nods. “Sure, I’ll be glad to come by. Maybe I can just. . ” She pauses as she realizes that it’ll be just her and Jacian tomorrow for their first day back.
“Come home with Jacian after soccer, maybe?”
Mrs. Fletcher comes out and closes the door behind her. “Ready, Kendall?”
Kendall squeezes Hector’s arm. “Maybe. We’ll see.” She turns to her mother. “Yep. Ready.”
They wave good-bye, and are home four minutes later.
Nico’s driveway looks dark and lonely.
She doesn’t want to get up today.
Everything is about to be very different.
She thinks about faking sick, but she knows her mother will just force her out of bed. “I highly regret this day in advance,” she says to the ceiling. Finally she hoists herself out of bed and gets ready for school.
She halfheartedly packs her soccer clothes and wonders if she’s actually already played the last game of her high school career.
When Jacian pulls up in one of Hector’s ranch trucks, Kendall shoves the rest of her toast into her mouth. She chews quickly and swallows, grabs her stuff — then sets it all down again because her OCD won’t let her leave the house without brushing her teeth. Jacian comes to the door and knocks.
She spits out the toothpaste, rinses her mouth, and wipes it dry, then grabs her books and runs to the door. He’s standing in her way.
“Hi,” she says.
He nods curtly. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He strides over to the pickup and opens her door for her. Stands there impatiently as she stares him down, Kendall wondering what his possible motive could be.
“You don’t need to do that,” Kendall says. “I can handle getting a door myself.”
“My grandfather will ask you if I opened the door for you.” He goes to the driver’s side. “I’m just trying to make the old man happy.”
“I’ll tell him yes. From now on.”
“Fine.”
